All super crafty titles aside, I think at some point in your fly fishing journey, whether you are a beginner or a seasoned tail water battle hardened veteran, we reach a point where things just don’t quite feel the same. It’s like something is missing. A void. All week you were obsessing over the game plan to include fly patterns, weather forecasts, river flows, gear preparation, texts to troll your buddies, etc… But when the day finally comes and ends, there is, at times, an empty feeling. I’ve been there, on more than one occasion.
Why does this happen?
Fly fishing has been a passion of mine for as long as I can remember. I think the excitement of “the unknown” is what truly drives me. The beauty of fly fishing is that each cast has the potential to yield a result. Each cast requires you to be fully present and dialed in. There is anticipation with each and every drift. However, as we hone our craft over time, we naturally set new and more ambitious goals each time we step into the water. This is where we need to “wade” lightly…
I was scrolling on Instagram last week and came across a post from Melissa @bigmacfishing. The post was centered on this idea of “expectation vs reality’ as it pertains to fly fishing. Often times we have set ourselves up for failure before we even put on our waders.
What do I mean by this?
We set unreasonable expectations that when not met, which is majority of the time, we feel defeated and unhappy. We put unnecessary pressure on ourselves trying to control something that is wild, unpredictable, and uncontrollable.
What does this actually look like?
Well, it could be the size of fish you expect to catch. It could be the number of fish you expect to catch. It could be the method you expect the fish to be caught. While most of the community enjoys the purist nature and challenge of fly fishing, we then compound this with even stiffer expectations. The problem with this mindset is that fly fishing is most times extremely unpredictable. We have all been there. You are in the correct spot, with the right flies, making a good drift, and the fish just won’t cooperate. It can be very frustrating. However, that’s the beauty of it. If we let the fish drive our happiness, we are in for some very tough days.
What can we do about it?
I think if we are able to first step back and remember THE WHY we are there in the first place, it will promote a more positive healthy mindset going in. Next, we need to be realistic about our expectations and exercise expectation management. Is it realistic to land a new PB 30 inch brown each time you go out? I hate to say it, but probably not… is catching a 12 inch brown more realistic? Probably. It’s certainly more likely to happen. The day that you do land that nasty 30” kyped jaw Brown, it will be the sweetest feeling ever, mainly because it wasn’t expected. You can just simply enjoy the moment. Hopefully with a bunch of high fives and a cold beer back at the truck. Know that you’re not alone. Many people struggle with this. Myself included. But hopefully, over time, we can find more enjoyment, fulfillment, and happiness when on the water. Of course, the expectations will be vary depending on the angler, river, conditions, etc. Stay unique. Fish your game. Lastly, we need to remain grateful for each and every moment we get to do what we love. We are so fortunate to have the ability to chase wild fish all over the world, and we should protect it at all costs. Mental health is important, I know many of us rely on the tranquility and peace fly fishing provides. Only you can keep it that way.
Stay in the game, you never know what can happen
Meet the Author: Bryce Campbell
Outdoor creative, freelancer, weekend warrior - at the end of the day, Bryce Campbell is a storyteller. He is a lifelong angler, photographer, writer and co-founder of Bourbon and Browns. Over the years, Bryce has chased fish all over the United States, from Redfish to creek chubs. In the end, Bryce just wants to be relatable and share with the world the beauty and passion of fly fishing!
All photos were taken by Bryce Campbell